


Don't Worry About It

by Comedienne



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood, Gen, Mild Epilepsy, Morbid thoughts, spit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6598993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comedienne/pseuds/Comedienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kei is epileptic.</p>
<p>Or was. According to his doctor, he’s considered grown out of it. Just like he grew out of his medical bracelet.</p>
<p>Yamaguchi isn’t convinced. He doubts he ever will be convinced. Too much of it lingers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Worry About It

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Twitch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103802) by [CheekyBrunette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyBrunette/pseuds/CheekyBrunette). 



> Kei gets a little dark. He doesn't really mean to, but if the concept of death is alarming to you maybe avoid reading this.

Kei always forgets how alarming some of the things he says are. 10 centimetres of water is enough to drown in. Falling a single metre could kill you, provided you snap your neck. You could choke on your own spit sleeping on your back. Kei says these things calmly. He could have said you’ll get pruny if you don’t get out of the bath or quit making the bunks squeak or roll over ‘cause you snore worse on your back. He doesn’t say these things. Kei talks about death. Drowning. Asphyxiation. Head trauma.

Even after all this time, Yamaguchi still looks vaguely horrified when these things slip out of Kei’s mouth. Were it not for him, Kei probably wouldn’t realise he’d said something strange at all. It’s not as if morbid is what he aims for. Through his skewed sense of risk, Kei thinks he’s being realistic.

Yamaguchi sees these utterances for what they are. They’re markers. Just like the juvenile splashing gesture he makes in the bath. Just like his automatic move for the lower bunk, even as Kageyama and Hinata fight over the top. Just like his status as a side-sleeper. Just like his grip on the handrail when he uses the stairs. Just like his early bedtime.

To Yamaguchi, they signpost his condition better than his medical bracelet ever could. Not that Kei wears it anymore. It’d be too small now anyway. He’s not on medication anymore either.

Kei is epileptic.

Or was. According to his doctor, he’s considered grown out of it. Just like he grew out of that bracelet.

Yamaguchi isn’t convinced. He doubts he ever will be convinced. Too much of it lingers.

In the way Kei splashes, just to make sound. So people know he’s still conscious in the bath water. In the way he still won’t take the top bunk, despite how rare having bunks is, because he can’t forget how his mum disallowed it. In Kei’s lopsided bed-hair, from resting on his side so he doesn’t choke. In Kei’s fingers, as they grasp a silver rail. He’s nervous of falling, even now. In Kei’s sleep schedule. Tiredness always made seizures more likely.

In the things Kei says. The alarming things. The things about death.

But, either way, the condition is mild. Was mild.

Kei is adamant that it’s not a concern anymore. It’s one of the few things he’s said to Yamaguchi about his epilepsy.

Don’t worry about it.

But when Yamaguchi looks into his expression the first morning in Tokyo, all he can see is a seizure waiting to happen. It’s the same face he’d seen before every episode Kei had ever had. Yamaguchi is certain Kei will have a seizure by the end of tomorrow.

They’re sleeping on futons.  
They shower instead of bathe.  
Yamaguchi doesn’t feel any better.

Kei insists he’s fine.

Don’t worry about it.


	2. Are You Okay?

Kei is in midair when he feels his lips start to buzz. His block is lousy, but his landing is worse. He stumbles slightly, sneakers squeaking. His ankle rolls just a little. He knows it should hurt but his tingling face is too distracting. He can’t think properly. His upper and lower lip feel as if they are shaking rapidly, vibrating. Kei knows they are not. He’d checked once, just out of curiosity. The feeling runs through his cheeks too. He abstractly registers this as being unusual. It sticks mostly to his right-hand side. His tongue feels dead in his mouth. He can taste blood. He must have bitten it on the way down, but his tongue doesn’t hurt either. He feels a little drooly already. Kei knows his face probably looks dopey. He tries to vocalise. He can’t even force a grunt. Breathing through his nose is fine, but his throat and jaw aren’t obeying him so he can’t exhale through his mouth when he tries. He forces his fuzzy brain to think. About where he is. About who’s around.

 

Bokuto, Kuroo, Akaashi.

 

It’s actually Akaashi who moves first. He ducks under the net. How long was Kei standing still?

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Through the persistent buzzing feeling, it takes Kei a moment to focus on Akaashi’s quiet voice. He’s not okay. He’s having a seizure, a partial one, in the company of people who don’t know. Kuroo is moving now too. Kei barely feels Kuroo’s hand on his arm. Still across the net, Bokuto just looks confused. He looks more owl-like than ever with his head tilted to the side like that.

 

Kei blinks at Akaashi. He wishes he could answer. Better yet, wishes he could flip his medical bracelet like he used to. Wishes he could shove that delicate little engraving under their noses. Kei’s arms feel vaguely leaden when he reaches out to grab at Akaashi’s forearm. Akaashi obliges and holds out his arm.

 

Kei is grateful that the Kanji for Yamaguchi is so simple. Simple enough to draw onto Akaashi’s palm.

 

Kei’s shifts his gentle grip to Akaashi’s wrist. Kei doesn’t have the dexterity left in his fingers to do a very good job of making the characters, but Akaashi seems to understand that he’s writing.

 

“Yama...guchi?”

 

It occurs to Kei that Yamaguchi isn’t a regular Karasuno player. Why would they know him by name? Regardless, there’s a hint of recognition in Kuroo’s eyes.

 

“Oh! Your buddy on the bench right? The kid with that lock of hair that always sticks up?”

 

And that’s rich cause Kuroo’s hair is twelve different kinds of stupid.

  
Kei hopes Yamaguchi went back to the first gym after chewing him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write. Still not entirely sure about it, but I wanna put it up anyway.


	3. Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, oh Kei."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood and Spit people. Just a little bit gross.

Entering the first gym flanked so closely by Akaashi and Kuroo earns Kei a few sets of eyes. Bokuto had trailed along behind them the whole unsteady trip from the third gym. Yamaguchi is one of the few who don’t turn, at least until Kuroo clears his throat.

 

“Tsukki?”

 

Kei reaches out to tug on his shirt. He pulls twice. He feels juvenile. Yamaguchi’s eyes flick from Kei’s face to where he’s got fabric pinched between his fingers. He tries to open his mouth, an instinctual attempt to talk. All that’s formed is a bloody spit bubble. It bursts, leaving a tinge of red on his lips.

 

“Oh, oh Kei.”

 

Yamaguchi’s voice is solid. No pity, no patronising edge. Kei is glad. Kei is glad for how much it sounds as if Yamaguchi had said ‘okay’ because the Karasuno guys are still looking at him. They don’t approach, though Suga looks tempted to. They seem to be wise enough to leave whatever is going on to Yamaguchi. Good.

 

The trio from the third gym are still following, but now it’s Yamaguchi’s hand on Kei’s arm. Usually they’d find a spot to sit. Wait it out. Somewhere quiet. But instead, Yamaguchi is standing him in front of the low sinks in the toilets. Yamaguchi’s hand shifts to his back.

 

“Go ahead Kei.”

 

Which is definitely code for ‘ignore Akaashi, Kuroo and Bokuto’.

 

He bends just slightly, wary of overbalancing. He’s almost comically far from the sink, tall as he is. But it’s not as if he’s together enough to catch himself should he fall and Yamaguchi is busy rifling through his bag for his phone. A fat globule of saliva falls slowly from Kei’s slack lips. It draws into a long string, eventually breaking and splattering against the plughole. Kei can’t decide which is less appealing to look at; the growing puddle of red-swirled spit beneath him or the bloody lips of his own drooling face. The red isn’t as stark on his mouth as it is against the sink, but neither image is particularly pleasant so he watches Yamaguchi instead. He’s frowning at his phone. He doesn’t look up.

 

“How long do you reckon?”

 

It takes a moment for the guys gathered by the door to realise Yamaguchi is asking them.

 

“What?” Comes Kuroo’s voice.

“When did his seizure start?”

“Seizure?”

“It must’ve been a few minutes by now.”

“What time is it now?” It’s the first time Bokuto has spoken.

 

Yamaguchi turns his phone to Bokuto.

 

“It’s been 4 minutes. I think.”

“Akaashi,” Yamaguchi turns to the second year. “Can you get a cold pack?”

 

Akaashi leaves without question, but Bokuto pipes up.

 

“Why?”

“He was limping a bit on the way over here and now that he’s standing here I can see his ankle is swelling a little.”

 

Akaashi is surprisingly quick to return, but he’s huffing so he must’ve sprinted. He makes to give the cold pack to Yamaguchi, but it’s immediately passed onto Bokuto.

 

“It’s his left.”

 

Bokuto nods, glad to be at least a little useful. He sits on the floor and holds the icy thing to Kei’s leg, expecting a flinch, at least a jump of his calf. Kei doesn’t react to the cold against his skin.

 

Yamaguchi is washing his hands in the next sink over. At Kuroo’s curious look, he explains that he should check Kei’s tongue.

 

“He doesn’t seem to be bleeding so much anymore, but I do want to check if he’s done any serious damage.”

 

Yamaguchi cuts the stream of Kei’s spit with his hand. He tilts Kei back upright and then he’s opening Kei’s jaw for him. Yamaguchi hums as he looks into Kei’s open mouth.

 

“I think we’ll be alright to sit you down somewhere now. Let’s get you off that ankle.”

 

Yamaguchi stuffs a wad of paper towels into Kei’s hand. He pushes Kei’s own hand to his still drooling mouth before turning to wash his hands again. Bokuto is getting up from the floor. Kuroo holds the door open.

 

They take to a bench outside. Bokuto returns to his spot on the ground. Yamaguchi sits beside him. Akaashi stands off to the side. Kuroo doesn’t move to sit either. He’s being all captain-y with his hands on his hips.

 

Now come the questions.

  
Kei just wishes his face would stop buzzing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Kei would much fancy being called Tsukki while he's drooling. But having Yamaguchi calling him Tsukishima is just too weird.


	4. Minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some swears. Tensions are high.

Yamaguchi thinks back. He can recall a sunny day on a grassy hill that’d left green marks on their clothes. Kei had tried to smile through it. Half a smile. The other side pulled down. Caught between the muses. Comedy and tragedy on one face.

 

Kuroo is scowling at him. The night air sends a chill across his skin

 

A blustery morning by a stream. He babbled as the brook did. Hair caught in the wind. Kei’s fringe, longer then, fluttering too. Kei’s mouth open to respond. No breath. No voice. Only birds and the stream and gusts of air through the trees.

 

Yamaguchi looks at the raised hair on his forearms. It’s easier than meeting Kuroo’s intense gaze.

 

An afternoon in Kei’s room with rain splattering heavy against his window. They looked at the growing puddles outside. Not the damp patches on Kei’s clothes. Watched thin rivulets of rainwater run down the glass. Not the trail on Kei’s chin.

 

He could probably remember more occasions, but Kuroo has realised Yamaguchi isn’t going to launch into explanation unprompted. He could start with any question. Will he be okay? What do we do now? Should I get your coach? Call his parents? An ambulance?

 

“What  _ the fuck _ is going on?!”

 

Kei flinches at the question. It’s the question someone who doesn’t have anything asks. The question someone who doesn’t know anyone who has anything asks. The question someone who just straight up doesn’t know anything asks. But, to Kei, it’s Yamaguchi’s answer that really feels like a kick in the teeth.

 

“Kei’s epileptic.”

 

Kei’s epileptic. Kei is epileptic. Is. Present tense. Damn it. Fuck. If Kei wasn’t fuzzy. If he was lucid. He’d scream. Cry. Something. Maybe. But he’s fuzzy. He does nothing. Doesn’t even clench his fists. Kei pushes his feelings aside. He can feel this frustration in full later. When he can swear. When he can punch something. When he can talk properly. Breathe properly. Swallow instead of drooling and bleeding over himself.

 

When his face, his brain, stops freaking the fuck out.

 

Yamaguchi explains to Kuroo. That it’s his brain. That they just have to wait. That it’s mild.

 

“Mild?! It’s been seven minutes!”

 

Seven.

 

He’d never had it last longer than five.

 

Kei’s finally starting to feel the cold. It’s night. They’re outside. Their t-shirts don’t do much. Bokuto switches his grip on the ice pack and shakes out his aching fingers.

 

Kei wants it to stop.

 

Eight.

 

His head is starting to clear. The buzzing should recede soon.

 

He can taste the tang of blood now. It’s disgusting, but encouraging just the same.

 

Yamaguchi and Kuroo are still talking. His face still hums.

 

Kei wants it to stop. He’s tired of it now.

 

Nine.

 

He’s been experimenting with moving. With breathing. Yamaguchi notices. Kei keeps trying. He wants his face back. Wants his voice back. Wants to eat and drink and sleep. He’s tired. He’s just been sitting. Waiting. But he’s tired.

 

He forces out a shapeless sound. Yamaguchi looks at him.

 

“I,” Kei manages, at last. Bokuto looks up.

“I,” Kei starts again. Akaashi approaches his side.

“I think,” Kei has to pause again, this time for his bloody tongue. Yamaguchi looks hopeful.

“I think it’s over.”

 

Kuroo looks relieved.

  
Just over nine minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we think of the temporal jumping? Nice little tidbits of history? How do the jumps feel?


	5. Basic Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eat. Sleep.

Even though he can talk again, Kei doesn’t end up saying much during the events that follow. 

Takeda fusses the best way he knows how: by making frantic phone calls. Behind the distortion, Kei’s mother’s voice is even and calm, not that Kei can hear the words. It’s oddly backwards; it’s Takeda who looks like he’s about to cry.

Kei still has the wad of paper towels scrunched in his hand.

Coach Ukai goes ballistic. He’s all red jelly face and flecks of spit flying onto Yamaguchi’s cheeks. Kei’s seen this Yamaguchi before, the stern and unflinching one, the one that deals with teachers and the like for him. Yamaguchi doesn’t move to wipe his face until Ukai turns away.

All the ice in the cold pack has melted. Bokuto’s fingers are vaguely purple.

The ‘involved parties’ take their dinner with the staff, served by Shimizu. She looks just a touch surprised when Kei asks for another spoonful of rice on his plate. It’s the largest serving Kei’s had at a camp meal time. The appetites of Kuroo and Bokuto seem somewhat subdued though. Kei feels like a glutton as he wolfs down his rice.

It’s only after dinner is over that Yamaguchi starts calling him Tsukki again.

They have to go back to the team. Kei just wants to sleep. Karasuno let the moment slide back in the first gym. Kei knows it’s unlikely they’ll do so again. He’s just not sure whether he can take listening to Yamaguchi explain it again. The same facts he can barely remember from when he was a child Yamaguchi has spouted three times over already. Kei doesn’t care about the facts; he never did.

They don’t even make it back to the room.

It’s Suga they encounter on their way. He’s pushy and loud in his incessant interrogation. Suga’s been worrying about it. It’s all spilling over now, that generic senior responsibility and Suga’s personal brand of caring, directly at Kei, not allowing him to defer questioning to Yamaguchi. Kei pushes past Suga. Kei’s in the doorway when Suga manages to catch his wrist.

“Don’t think you can just not say anything!”  
“Please,” Kei says, “please, just, I, tomorrow, please.”

And if there’s anything that Kei tends not to be, it’s desperate and incoherent.

Suga lets go.


	6. Breakfast in Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This conversation just couldn't wait until he was dressed, could it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's nearly 1am. I'll probably find errors in this later, but I will fix them then and not worry about it now.

It’s tomorrow.  
It feels entirely too soon, despite the team allowing Kei to sleep in. Actually, he’s not sure if they so much allowed him as simply didn’t wake him. He’s usually fairly alert to when people start moving around, but he’s just woken and the others are sitting dressed on their futons, even sleeps-like-a-log Yamaguchi. They’re all just kind of waiting.  
Kei’s not ready.  
He puts on his glasses and pretends that he is.

“Yeah, I had a seisure yesterday.” The statement comes out plain. It’s typical of his delivery, but he really doesn’t know what else to say, or how else to start.  
Nobody looks surprised, though Yamaguchi looks sheepish. It’s fairly easy to surmise that the team had badgered Yamaguchi and he’d told them.  
“Are you okay?” It’s Suga who asks.  
“I am now, yes.”  
Suga opens his mouth to speak again and Kei swears that if his next question is ‘Are you sure?’ he’s going to go right back to sleep. Suga doesn’t get a word out before Hinata’s butting in. To even Kei’s own surprise, he’s not bothered by the question Hinata asks.  
“What’s it like?!”  
He is still entirely too loud for just having woken up.  
“Um.”  
“Hinata!” Suga hisses.  
“No, no. It’s a good question. I just- It’s-” Kei scratches at his head in thought for a moment.  
Hinata, to his credit, is waiting for Kei to form an answer.  
“I mean,” Kei grabs his phone from where it rests beside his pillow, “it’s kind of like,” and he grabs Yamaguchi’s phone too, “it’s kind of like this.” Kei calls Yamaguchi’s phone. The gathered team watch as Kei holds the vibrating phone to Hinata’s face.  
“It tickles.” Hinata’s lips smear against the back of Yamaguchi’s phone.  
“Yeah, it’s also kinda numb too...like dental anaesthetic and a bit disorienting.” Kei wipes off Yamaguchi’s phone before passing it back to him. “But they don’t tend to be long.”  
The scrunched look of disgust Yamaguchi gives his phone is hilarious, but the look he gives Kei is that of some kind of revelation. Kei makes to stand, but flinches at the jolt that shoots up his left leg.  
He’d forgotten about that.  
It’s not particularly painful, just a little tender, but it did catch him by surprise. Despite his insistence that he was fine, that all he’d need to do was wrap his ankle, Kei is served breakfast sitting on his futon.

He’d thought the morning’s conversation had been awkward.  
Having eleven guys watch you eat is definitely weirder.


	7. Buds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo and Yamaguchi have a little chat.

Before all this, there would have been no cause for Kuroo to talk to Yamaguchi, and so, when Kuroo slings a lanky arm entirely too casually around his shoulders, Yamaguchi is thoroughly surprised.

“Heeeey Yamaguchi,” Kuroo drawls.  
“Oh, Kuroo, uh, hello.” Yamaguchi shrugs a little in a vain attempt at dislodging Kuroo’s arm.  
“How’s our buddy Tsukishima doing?”   
Yamaguchi doesn’t believe for a second that Kei considers Kuroo a buddy, even if Kei were ever to use the word.  
Kuroo claps Yamaguchi on the shoulder. The action wedges Yamaguchi closer in under Kuroo’s arm. Yamaguchi’s shoulder is probably jabbing Kuroo in the armpit but he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s hard to tell. Kuroo’s one of those people who just keeps grinning.  
“Tsukki is doing better, thanks, though you should know that considering he played in the practice matches this morning.” Yamaguchi makes to duck out from under the vaguely oppressing warmth of Kuroo’s arm only to be tugged back. Kuroo’s hand on his shoulder feels like a clamp.  
“Well, you never know with a stoic guy like that,” Kuroo says airily, “and who better to ask than his best bud.”  
Yamaguchi doesn’t think Kei’s ever had a ‘bud’ in his life.  
“You know,” Kuroo continues, “with how you follow that guy around I would have thought he’d be the one protecting you. Never would have guessed it’d be the other way round.” Kuroo laughs even as Yamaguchi’s posture shifts under his arm.  
“We protect each other.” Yamaguchi forcibly removes Kuroo’s hand from his shoulder. “Besides,” Yamaguchi adds, “it’s not as if Kei needs me to protect him.”  
Yamaguchi strides away.

Kuroo is fairly certain he's just offended the guy.  
Kuroo doesn’t know how he manages to keep pissing people off.

**Author's Note:**

> I refer to Tsukishima as Kei because I plan on including Akiteru later. Two Tsukishimas just gets confusing.


End file.
